


No Rest for the Wicked (only good things come to those who wait)

by Dancing_With_The_Beast



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Stiles, Barely there descriptions of Fae politics, F/M, Female Stiles Stilinski, Fighting, Good Peter Hale, Sane Peter Hale, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Teen Malia, Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, kind of, like 14-15
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-03-22
Packaged: 2019-11-26 08:11:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18178097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dancing_With_The_Beast/pseuds/Dancing_With_The_Beast
Summary: Imagine mourning a beloved family member for years and years only to realise that they aren't as dead as one might think and they're definitely more than pissed to have waited so long.But it's okay, they're worth the wait - and they missed you too.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a really, really, really long time since I've had enough inspiration and desire to write something and even more so to post it here but I've fallen into 2012 and Teen Wolf and I've been day-dreaming and sneak writing this for a few days now, and who am I to deny what obviously must happen. I was inspired by a work I'm unable to find which sucks but it was basically Stiles being married to Peter pre-Hale fire and taking care of Laura, Derek and Cora? I'm honestly not sure if I actually read it or if I dreamt it up (fairly certain its an actual fic) but I can't find it anymore.
> 
> Of course, it has been a while and my writing is more than a little rusty so I apologise for that, sincerely and this might be a whole lot OCC or OC or OOC but its fanfictions and creative liberties for the sake of writing are allowed to be taken.
> 
> That being said - I'm excited to post this! 
> 
> So enjoy Xx

“So we’re here to do…business with the Summer Courts?” Isaac sounds as confused as the first time Peter had tried, note _tried_ , to answer their questions and at this point he’s not feeling helpful enough to try again.

It’s not that he doesn’t wish to, except that’s exactly what it is and his nephew is as insane as they all think he is if he thinks Peter’s going to be opening his mouth to tell them anything except fuck off.

In a nicer way of course.

“Sort of…” Derek pauses, looking to his Uncle for help and Peter quite happily pretends not to notice when the rest of the pack turns towards him as well.

Raising a brow, he looks each one in the eye – taking pleasure in the way only Lydia, unimpressed, and Malia, equally as unimpressed, keep eye contact.

Even Derek looks away.

When he feels the odd stirrings of guilt, Peter has to struggle to keep the confusion off his face. Perhaps he’s getting mellow in his old age? Wouldn’t Stiles laugh at that.

He freezes –

_“C’mon Peter, one more ghost story for the Pups.” She smiles widely, brown eyes glowing by the fire light and full of mischief._

_Laura is grinning, all wide eyed and carefree from her seat across from him, a much appreciated change from the teen Alpha attitude she’s had all month. Derek is a little more subdued by his_ _favourite_ _Aunt’s side, cuddled into her warmth like the Pup he is and baby Cora looks like she’s struggling to stay awake, the stubbornness in her winning out._

_Peter sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes and tilting his face up towards the sky, if only to keep the brats from seeing the smile on his face._

_“Very well. This one, you might be surprised to know, actually happened right here in Beacon Hills-”_

–  He shakes himself out of it, something between a growl and a whine stuck in his throat. The pack’s stopped, curious now and openly staring. He doesn’t even try to resist snarling at them, a hint of fang peeking through.

The Argent girl, _Allison_ , reaches for her crossbow but Derek placates her.

“There’s no need. Peters fine.” Derek sounds confident but his eyes never stray from Peter, if Peter was less of an asshole, he might even be impressed with Derek’s ever growing Alpha abilities.

It doesn’t stop Scott nor Isaac from growling at him.

Lydia rolls her eyes, tugging a bored Jackson along with her, “Can we hurry this up? The last thing we need, as a new Pack, is to A. Be late and B. Show up covered in blood from in house fighting.”

“She has a point.” Peter points out, tone flat and equally as bored.

Malia snorts, so unlike him that he has to laugh, and starts walking after Lydia, “Distraction.”

He grins, “Of course, my dear, anything to get through this quicker.”

He pretends to not notice the way she pauses, startled but not upset, at the affection.

They start moving again.

“So…Summer Court?” This time Isaac has the smarts to ask Lydia. Who, not quite happily but certainly knowledgeable enough to do so, answers him. Peter ignores them all, trailing behind like the extension he is. It should make him upset – it fucking does – but at this point, he himself doesn’t feel comfortable enough with anything more.

Malia and to an extent Derek and Cora are the only ones he really cares about, perhaps Erica and Boyd as well. He appreciates the ferocity of the blonde and the quietness and sturdiness of her boyfriend. Derek chose well.

He’s not lost enough in his own head to miss when Cora suddenly appears beside him – no, never lost in his head, not anymore – and takes his hand.

He breathes deeply, heart skipping when she squeezes his hand tightly and tugs him into a rough shoulder bump, “I miss her too.”

He swallows against the bump in his throat and frowns. He had honestly thought that Cora, that Derek, had forgotten about her - about Stiles. The Aunt who, by no means, had to love them. Who didn’t have to side with Laura against his sister but did so anyway because _“She was right Peter and you fucking know it! Don’t sit there and lecture me about what’s best for the Pack when you’re not even thinking clear enough to consider that perhaps someone else has a good, fuck it – a **great** idea and you’re all too high and mighty to consider it!” _

Who held Derek tightly each and every night he woke up screaming, rocking the teen back and forth until his breathing calmed and the tears stopped after Paige’s death. Who cried when Cora was born and protected her so fiercely, who made it possible for the little one to escape the Hale house fire.

His wife had loved the Hale pack with all of her being, every single petty, intelligent, cunning, beautiful part of her and was loved just as much in return.

Turning to face Cora, he pushes against all uncomfortableness and possible rejection to brush a hand over her cheek. She doesn’t flinch but she doesn’t lean into it, progress even so. He smiles tightly, “She would have been so proud of you. So proud of _both of you_.”

Derek falters in step, trips up only a little at that, but when he regains his footing his stance has shifted with that little bit of confidence.

Cora smiles, a bit wobbly but genuine.

“She’d be proud of you too you know.” She murmurs under her breath, turning and resuming their walking behind the pack, not once letting go of his hand.

He trembles a little, in anger at her gall or unexpected guilt – he doesn’t know and sneers, “She would be disgusted –“

“She would understand. I do.” Cora bumps their arms together again, softer this time. “Aunt Stiles was more devious than you at times Uncle Peter, definitely a lot more fearless.” She laughs as she says it.

Peter’s almost sorry he doesn’t get the chance to respond when Cora gasps suddenly and he’d be offended if not for the fact that the clearing they’ve reached is absolutely stunning

The water sparkles where it’s touched by sunlight beaming through bright green leaves. A gently breeze blows through the clearing, the scent of dirt and a sweetness that only comes from wild flowers gently easing around them. The grass is softer beneath their feet – bare as is expected. It truly is beautiful, meant to be appreciated and taken in.

But Peter is an asshole and with all the asshole-ness that comes with that, pinches his niece.

“What the hell?” She hisses, rubbing at her arm.

He smirks, “For fun.”

“Bite me old man.” She sticks her tongue out at him and weaves her way to stand behind Erica.

It’s time.

Peter notes, with interest, the way the Pack fans out behind the Alpha’s – Erica to Derek’s left, Cora behind her and Boyd to Derek’s left, Jackson behind him. Lydia is standing next to Jackson and Allison next to her, behind Scott’s left where as Isaac is behind his right side. Peter is, of course, to the side – the left but behind neither pack and Malia beside him.

His daughter cares for both packs but doesn’t share a connection with either, doesn’t answer to either Alpha. Both Alphas had helped her into changing forms when she was discovered to be alive but she hadn’t submitted.

He’s not about to say he feels a sense of pride at that, but he does.

They’re a formidable Pack – two alphas, five betas, a hunter, a banshee, a werecoyote and him – and they’ve reached a stability that leaves Peter feeling comfortable with their abilities; but even so, dealing with the Fae is terrifying.

They arrive in one group, walking with purpose, so much of it that the earth shakes slightly beneath their feet, no matter how much they don’t actually touch the ground. Lydia lets out an involuntary gasp and even the hunter looks shocked.

In fact, the only ones not shocked are Peter and Derek, Cora being too young to ever deal with the Fae back when the Hale’s did so regularly.

The problem with the Fae is their lingering ability to unsettle. They’re not quite beautiful – or they are but in an uncomfortable way. A way that makes you want to look away because there’s something _wrong._ The Fae are dangerous, thrumming with powerful magic and a deep darkness that leaves you on edge and desperate to be anywhere else.

Still, Derek and Scott step forward.

“Your Majesty.” Derek bows his head, remaining eye contact – bright red to white and gold. Not submission but merely respect. Scott does the same and the rest of the pack, tense and ready to leap to battle, watch with interest.

She hums, lips quirking upwards in a condescending way that Peter is oh so familiar with. “Alpha Hale and…McCall.”

Scott bristles at her tone but smiles, tight in the corners but never faltering when he says, “Your majesty, we came here today to –“

She cuts him off with a tinkling laugh, the sound like bells but so wrong as her lips stretch around sharp fangs, “I know exactly what you came here today for _Alpha._ ”

Peter tenses, Malia making a questioning noise beside him. Derek glowers but refuses to back down, “We came here with respect, the same would be appreciated.”

Suddenly the laughter stops and the Queen steps forward, offended but not angry, no she’s too confident for that, “We respected the last Alpha and look what happened – she could not control what happened on her land. Why should I expect that her troublesome son and a baby Alpha could do any different?” she sounds indifferent, as all Queen’s truthfully should; but there’s something in her tone, something Peter can’t place that leaves him on edge.

In the end, it’s the blood that captures his attention.

Peter will kick himself later, angry for being so caught up in pack and Fae politics that he missed her scent entirely – Stiles will laugh, running her fingers through Malia’s hair as the girl sleeps soundly, and remind him that she didn’t have a scent, hidden by the Fae to the world - but even so.

There, behind the Queen and slightly to the right, held tight by one of her soldiers, is a woman. Blood is bleeding sluggishly from her lip but she doesn’t look afraid, golden brown eyes narrowed in defiance and anger. She’s not speaking, but she doesn’t have too, he’d recognise her in a heartbeat.

“Stiles…” his voice comes out a breathy whisper, unable to help himself, he’s already walking forward. He pushes past Derek, or he would have if not for the arm stopping him from doing so.

Cora’s already followed his eye sight. He can smell the tears welling up in her eyes as she takes in another surprisingly alive member of their family. Peter growls again, this time deep and low and now Derek is growling alongside him, his pack unsure but angry behind him – ready to leap with a moment’s notice. Scott looks beyond confused, “…What’s happening?”

“Release her!” Derek all but demands, voice dark and angry – righteously so.

Peter’s almost proud.

The Queen laughs again, this time not even bothering to hide her mocking tilt or the way her court laughs alongside her.

Stiles is spitting, not that any of them can hear what she’s saying, and jerking roughly in the soldiers hold. Not laughing anymore, the soldier bares sharp teeth and backhands her. He does it so hard that Peter watches in horror and fury as her head snaps sharply to the side – but she doesn’t seem bothered, spitting out a mouthful of blood and slamming her head back into the Fae’s face hard enough that he actually lets her go.

The laughter stops, and the Queen’s eyes widen in unadulterated rage as she marches forward. Stiles – beautiful, unflinching, unafraid Stiles – glares up at her and right when a hand reaches out towards her Derek roars – long and loud and so full of that Hale power that the Queen had mistakenly mocked that the rest of the pack is helpless but to respond in turn, each howl more bloodthirsty than the last. Peter roaring last of all – howl ripped through him, full of every single emotion he’s felt since waking up and realising that along with his family, his pack, that she was gone from the world as well.

Stiles turns her wide, shocked eyed on them and takes a shuttering breath. 

The Queen, whilst she had flinched back at the howls, straightens again, grasping the newly discovered _alive_ Hale and wraps a long, with extremely sharp nails, hand around her throat.

“ _Mama! Let her go!”_ Malia is screaming now, shouting and wiggling in Boyd’s hold. Peter grabs her tightly, presses her wet face to his neck and wraps his arms tightly around her partially shifting body, ignoring the claws digging into his skin as Malia cries and shouts and tries to get to Stiles.

Derek pauses for a moment, just as Peter does, because as far as they know, as far as anyone knows, Malia’s mother A. Died and B. Is unknown.

Ignoring the pack, ignoring Derek and ignoring that new piece of information, Peter’s eyes find Stiles again – Stiles who is repeatedly opening and closing her mouth.

“Well that’s sweet, but irrelevant. This one belongs to us.” The court titters behind her and the Queen smiles sharply, “You are not getting her, ever.”

Stiles keeps opening and closing her mouth – chest heaving as she breaths deeply opens her mouth and…forces air out? Before repeating the process.

The Queen is still talking.

Peter watches closely as Stiles locks eye’s with him, breathing in for a long time before staring at Lydia and… _screaming._

“Lydia scream.” Peter probably sounds crazy, there’s no doubt in his mind that he does – but it’s a testament to how far they’ve all come when Lydia looks at him out of the corner of her eye before tipping her head back, pushing her arms out and screams.

The effects are immediate. The Queen, her entire court actually, start howling. Their ears and eyes bleeding as they clutch at their heads in agony.

When Lydia finally stops, its silent. Even Malia has quieted her tears long enough to stare wide eyed at the happenings.

For a moment, the only sound ringing throughout the clearing is that of heavy breathing by the Fae court before Stiles is leaping to action. They watch, frozen in place, as the woman grabs a sword from the soldiers belt and without a thought, without pause, slices the head of the Queen swiftly off. Silver blood spurts up and hits her face and covers her body but she doesn’t care, kicking the head away from her and pointing the weapon at what Peter and the others assume is the next in leadership.

“Leave.” God, Peter’s knees tremble at her voice alone – light but heavy, forceful and not to be disobeyed, _alive._ The Fae hisses at Stiles and lunges but she simply stabs him through and swings the sword upwards, his top half in half and dead on the ground beside his Queen. " _LEAVE!_ " 

Instantly, the entire court disappears. Their dead Queen and her most loyal on the ground being the only thing reminding the pack that they were actually there.

Stiles stands with her back to them for only a moment before she turns, shoulders shaking but smile wide as tears pouring from her eyes, "Took you long enough." 

Malia squirms and Peter, too shocked to stop her - the entire pack too shocked to stop her - lets her go. She rushes forward, wrapping her arms around her...mother? 

"Mama."

"Oh baby." Stiles welcomes the crushing hug and sobs into Malia's hair, mother and daughter tumbling to the ground but stay wrapped in each others arms, unable to stay standing. Stiles pulls away, running her hands over Malia's face and hair, wiping her tears away with her thumbs and pressing little kisses to her daughters face, scenting her and holding her tightly against her neck, "Oh baby, look at you." 

"Aunt Stiles?" 

Stiles freezes, looking up into the shocked eyes of a very pale faced, very young looking Cora Hale. Derek Hale, equally as pale, right behind his sister. 

"Cora, Derek," She opens her arms wide, smiling gently but no less watery as the two grown wolves throw themselves into her arms along with their cousin. She wraps her arms tightly around all three of them, rubbing her cheek over Cora's head and against Derek's cheek. Both Hales, both stoic and emotionally stunted (Erica's words), cry freely into their Aunt's shirt and scent her almost desperately back

Peter whines, loud and pained through the clearing and he watches as she stops. Heartbeat racing and breaths coming out in short gasps at the sound. Immediately Derek pulls back, Cora and Malia going along with him - although by Malia's little hiss, it's not as willingly as her cousin. 

Stiles stands on shaking legs, covered in tears and dirt and blood and snot and looking more beautiful than ever. Within seconds he's across the field, pulling her into his arms and holding on so tight for fear that if he even lets her go for a second she'll disappear. 

Stiles kisses his cheek gently, his neck, rubs her hands over his arms, his shoulders, his back. Reassuring herself that this is real, that she's not still trapped in a world so wrong for her. 

"I'm here," She promises, voice soft and sweet, "Peter, I'm here." 

He loosens his grip and isn't even surprised the least when she pulls back and then kisses him. It's gentle - they have time to be rough and demanding with each other later - and full of love. Peter could gag at that, could roll his eyes and mutter about teenagers and first loves and hate himself for entertaining the idea but in this moment, it fucking is and he is beyond happy for it, beyond happy with her here. 

Finally, when their lips are swollen and cheeks flushed, when her tears have dried and their chests are heaving, she pulls back and rubs her thumbs over his cheeks. Staring into bright blue eyes she sighs, "We have a lot to talk about man." 

Derek's sharp burst of laughter breaks the bubble and the rest of the pack starts shouting, Cora's grinning at the scowl on Peter's face from being called 'man' no doubt and Malia has reattached herself to her mother, arms wrapped around her skinny frame. 

"C'mon I need a shower or a bath or something," Stiles smiles, wrapping her free arm around Peter as Derek begins to lead the still questioning and shouting pack back to civilisation, "and some greasy, fatty foods please." 

"Unbelievable." He sighs dramatically, pretends to be annoyed but the tightness of his arm and his inability to look away from her gives him away. 

He's never letting her out of his sight again but that's okay. The way Stiles's fingers are gripping his t-shirt and their daughter tightly and how her eyes aren't letting Derek or Cora out of her sights, he doesn't think he's the only one.

Of course, they do have a lot to talk about (like the fact they have a daughter, or how the fuck she's even alive?) but for now, Peter's happy to focus on the moment. 

For now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why didn’t you come with me?” 
> 
> Stiles fidgets with Peter’s hand, still running the free one through thick blonde curls. “I saw you shaking and covered in soot and crying these big giant tears and all I could think of was grabbing you and leaving – escaping the danger.” 
> 
> “Why didn’t you?” She demands.
> 
> “I did.” Stiles bites out.
> 
> Cora jerks back in visible confusion and the entire pack watches on, captivated and unable to look away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So another chapter, written in the same time frame as the last. Honestly, I probably could draft it more but drafting my own work isn't something enjoyable for me, I like posting as soon as I'm happy with it, which is what this is! 
> 
> I suppose, for this to make sense, I have to clear a few things up but I think I'll leave that to the end notes. That way there's no spoilers! 
> 
> If there are any mistakes, please let me know! Grammar, spelling, anything you see that I missed or whatever or plot holes that don't make sense already. I know my tenses switch quite a bit but that's something I work on as much as I can and I don't think that's ever going to really change. 
> 
> Thank being said, same as last time, I hope you enjoy! Xx

True to her word, all it took was one very large, very greasy fast food meal and a hot shower to make Stiles feel human again. She had eaten fast, faster than her family had ever remember seeing before, and then demanded more with grabby hands to Peter. Peter had only laughed, a wet sort of chuckle and bought more of the shitty food without any comment about it.

The situation was weird enough but that, it seemed, was the last straw for the absolutely confused group of teenagers. I mean Peter not complaining and shaming someone for eating ‘chemically enhanced garbage’? It was uncharacteristic! There was not even one off handed comment from the wolf who had literally spent the entire afternoon last week shaming the pack for their constant Pizza eating.

Finally washed and full and feeling settled for the first time in a long ass time, Stiles allowed the questions to come. She was safe, sat in Derek’s loft and wasn’t that weird? Her 16 year old nephew was suddenly old enough to own a loft. Hell, for her it felt like only last week when he asked her to help him figure out some horrible science question. Fae time was weird like that.

Of course, she looked older – she knew that. Stiles had new wrinkles, at the corner of her eyes and mouth and her hair was longer and darker. She wasn’t the 20 something year old she used to be, but compared to Derek’s height and beard and general adult looking-ness? Stiles felt her heart break at the realization that he could be considered older than her! She could smell her own scent sour with heartbreak when she look at Cora, her little niece who ran around in her sisters torn clothes and jumped in mud in her pretty little white dress was so grown up and where Derek looked like Talia, she looked so much like her father.

Her husband hadn’t left her side since she had come back. A hand on her at all times – _she used to complain about his constant touching, a teasing sort that left them both laughing_ – and she welcomed the grounding. Her daughter on the other hand was asleep, holding onto a sweater of Peters that she had rolled around in for long enough that both their scents were prominent on the wool. As much as Stiles had panicked about being separated from her daughter again, one look at her obviously drained and tired daughter was enough for her to send her to bed. Malia fought her tooth and nail and it was only a little sleeping spell that finally allowed Malia peace. The pack had questioned her calmness and she had laughed. She was a giant ball of anxiety at the moment but at least she could still hear her through the walls; could hear every intake of breath and the way her heart skipped every third beat. It was calming.

Stiles sighed, an odd mixture of content and antsy at the silence in the loft and stood.

There were things to be addressed after all.

Peter let out a whine at that though, looking very displeased with himself and she laughed softly, scratching her fingers through his hair. He smiled up at her in _awe_ and could she really be blamed for leaning down for a swift kiss?

Pulling away after a moment, she leaned her forehead against his and sighed again at the silence – _awkward, uncomfortable, awed, hopeful_. It was getting to her. Stiles turned and faced the pack, faced her niece and nephew and began to tear up.

“Look at you two, look at you!” Stiles couldn’t help the wonder in her voice, the _pride._ For a moment, they looked exactly as she remembered – Derek, all bashful with the tips of his ears an embarrassed red and Cora’s own shy response, the great Hale scowl she was so good at.

Taking a deep breath, wiping her eyes and stepping forward, she ignored the rest of this pack that she did not know and motioned to her nephew, “Derek, come here.”

He shuffled forward, almost afraid and she felt a piece of her shatter at the way startled him when she pulled him into a long, hard hug. It broke her heart to hear his little cries, too feel wet tears on her neck but it was long overdue. He needed this and shit, she did too. How long had it been without contact like this for him? Hell, how long had it been since she’d had this? Without her Spark, she would have gone feral a long time ago.

She leaned back enough to hold his face in her hands, eye contact steady, and gently rubbed her thumbs on his cheeks, “It wasn’t your fault.”

He shook his head and tried to pull away, “Of course it was!” he shouted, unable to meet her eyes and breathing hard, “Of course it was, I was so dumb and _stupid!_ If I hadn’t–”

“No.” She said firmly, holding tight onto him and forcing him to look at her, “ _No._ Look, I might not know exactly what happened – the Fae are not known for being forth coming or truthful – but I know _you._ ” She spoke softly, continuing to swipe her thumbs over his cheeks as she went, “I know my nephew and I know you would _never_ put any of the pack in danger on purpose. What happened to you was absolutely awful and I am so, so sorry you went through that, that that happened to you.” He was crying harder now, giant sobs wracking his body, but he felt less tense. She continued, her voice gentle but leaving no room for doubt, “Derek, I am so proud of you. Look at what you’ve accomplished. You have the strength, the compassion, the _eyebrows_ of a Hale.” She wiggled her own for emphasis and felt her lips lift into a smile when he chuckled at that, “You are exceptional, little one. You have nothing to be sorry for and you’re clearly delusional if you think I’ll be accepting anything remotely resembling an apology from you” She pulled him down and pressed a kiss to his forehead before patting his cheek and letting him go.

“I…I don’t think I’ll ever not feel…what I feel about everything but,” Derek looked away for a moment, steeling his shoulders and taking a deep breath before meeting her eyes, “Thank you.”

Stiles smiled softly, “You’re my nephew Derek, you’re family. I love you.”

He returned her smile, smaller than she remembered but no less him, “Love you too.”

She blew out a deep breath, hands resting on her hips and surveyed the room. The pack looked shocked and more than a few looked equally as emotional as she felt – the pair of blondes especially. She could feel more than see Peter, knew how emotional he was by the way he was breathing. Cora was standing off to the side, hands balled into fists and chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Cora Hale, you come here now.” Her tone left no room for argument and within an instant she had an armful of shaking teenage wolf to hold. Stiles held tight, pressing Cora’s face into her neck just as she’d done with her brother and ran a hand over her head.

“I love you, my little warrior wolf.” She whispered, pressing her cheek to the top of Cora’s head and shushing her gently, rocking her from side to side slightly.

Cora tilted her head up, “I missed you so much!” she cried, tears and snot all over her face. Stiles laughed a little, using the hem of her shirt to wipe over Cora’s face, just as she had done when she was a baby.

Whilst the snot and sobs had stopped, the tears hadn’t yet. Mind made up, Stiles sat down right next to Peter and pulled the still shaking Cora into her lap. She patted the space next to her, feeling her chest ease up when Derek fell into it and cuddled into her side without a fight.

“How did you do it?”

All eyes turned to the red head in the corner and with the confidence of someone used to getting her way, she straightened her back and looked directly at Stiles, “Lydia Martin. How did you survive, get out, _live._ ”

Stiles cocked her head, impressed at the balls this little banshee had.

Peter snarled but Stiles waved him off, leaning further into his chest and eyed the girl, “I wasn’t home when the house burned down.” She admitted.

She felt Derek’s eyes on her and could feel Peter and Cora’s equal confusion through the steadily growing pack bond.

The other Alpha – McCall, she remembered – spoke up next, “But Derek said that the entire family except him and Laura burned in the fire?”

At that tidbit of information, Peter froze, barely breathing and something between a whimper and a snarl came from Derek.

Stiles, still fresh out of the metaphorical Fae womb and not entirely sure of how the past few years had been for her family, ignored what the Alpha said and narrowed her eyes at him instead.

“If you want the entire story, it would be best not to interrupt. Don’t you think?” Stiles spoke calmly, but the sickly sweet smile on her face directed at the Alpha was warning enough that he stunk of embarrassment and closed his mouth.

She nodded, pleased, and faced the rest of them again, “Like I said, I wasn’t home. I doubt either of you remember – you would have been to young to even realize Cora – but we’d had a fight about…something stupid, I don’t even remember–”

“Mugs.” Peter interrupted her, “We were fighting about mugs.”

Stiles laughed, “That’s right! God, I was so angry at you because you were being such a dick that I just, I stormed off.” Stiles looked at him, “Peter…I left the house and just walked straight into the woods.”

His eyes widened in realization and Derek’s mouth dropped.

“So you weren’t there when Kate…did her thing.” Another girl asked. Stiles took note of her; the brown hair and brown eyes were average but the smell of wolfs-bane ingrained deeply in her scent interested her.

A hunter.

How interesting.

Stiles nodded again, “I didn’t know what had happened until the bonds began to break.” Angrily, she shook her head, willing her eyes to dry, “I remember stumbling through forest that I knew like the back of my hand. The pain was so intense that every time one snapped? Every time someone died? It was like being ripped apart from the inside. I could barely think straight when I reached home. I remember a tightness in my chest that I’d never felt before and I was frantically sorting through the bonds but I couldn’t _feel_ anything _. I couldn’t!_ It was like my entire body had numbed itself. I thought everyone was dead.” She stopped herself, teeth sinking into her lower lip as she tried to focus on her breathing, making sure she didn’t work herself into a goddamn panic attack.

Cora slipped out of her lap to sit beside her so that Peter could lift Stiles into his lap; chest to back, with one hand settled on her stomach and the other on the back of Derek’s neck. Cora wrapped her hands around Stiles and Derek’s, leaning further into Peter’s side. The rest of the pack moved forward; the blonde girl leaning against Derek’s leg, her head resting against his knee as the others followed in suit, piling atop each other to offer comfort to their Alpha and pack members.

Stiles exhaled shakily and cautiously leaned forward to comb her fingers through the blonde boys hair – she needn’t have worried as he pushed back into her hand.

“What happened next?” the Kitsune asked her, timid but curious.

Stiles continued petting the boy as she spoke, “I remember not being able to see anything except fire. The screams had stopped by then and all I could hear was the creaking off burning wood. I hadn’t felt Talia go though. Our bond was weak but still there and I went crazy trying to follow it.” She stopped again and faced Derek, “I think youre mother was trying to keep me away. There was this…block between us,” she explained and Peter hummed behind her.

“I remember that. I could see her but I couldn’t feel her. There was nothing there except for the faint knowledge that she was still breathing.” He agreed, clarifying for the rest of them.

“Exactly, but because I was so out of it, I couldn’t feel anything else. Logically, I knew Laura and Derek weren’t there, but couldn’t feel them. I couldn’t feel anyone. I couldn’t feel _you_.”

Peter holds her tighter.

Stiles grabs his hand and slips hers into it, grasping it like a lifeline as Lydia speaks again.

“But you saved Cora. We all know that, it was one of the first things Cora said to Peter when she saw him again.”

Cora nods her head, eyes narrowed as she tries to remember. “I remember you grabbing my arms and checking me before you just…pushed me into the forest and told me to run. You didn’t come with me.” She quiets as the realisation washes over her, “ _You didn’t come with me._ ”

Stiles looks away from her, eyes downcast as her niece faces her head on.

“Why didn’t you come with me?”

Stiles fidgets with Peter’s hand, still running the free one through thick blonde curls. “I saw you shaking and covered in soot and crying these big giant tears and all I could think of was grabbing you and leaving – escaping the danger.”

“Why didn’t you?” She demands.

“I did.” Stiles bites out.

Cora jerks back in visible confusion and the entire pack watches on, captivated and unable to look away.  

“I did but I didn’t.” Stiles huffs angrily but continues, “You don’t remember but we ran for miles Cora, your little legs took you as far as they could and when you finally stumbled and couldn’t get back up – I lifted you and kept running.”

“So…which part of that was you not going with her?” Another young boy speaks up from his place beside Lydia and Stiles eyes him with interest – curious because the lack of interest on his face doesn’t match up with the question he asks. He’s obviously been listening but he’s made an effort to look like he doesn’t care.

He squirms under her gaze.

Interesting.

Instead of berating him like she had with the other Alpha, Stiles starts speaking again. “Like the majority of you, I am a werewolf.” Looking each and everyone in the eyes, Stiles flashes her own and overlooks the gasps of surprise on their faces, no doubt at the colour of her irises, as she hurries to explain “…but I’m also Spark and that means magically gifted and one of the easiest and most natural things that I can do is feel the sudden change of a new magic to the land.”

“The Fae.” Lydia speaks for her and Stiles grins.

“Aren’t you a smart one.” She coos and whilst the banshee rolls her eyes in response, there’s a pleased tilt to her lips.

Peter speaks up from behind her, “You felt the Fae’s presence and sent little Cora on her way.”

Stiles nods, smile a little self-deprecating and tone a little dull, “Between the two of us, Cora had a better chance of being ignored and escaping than a werewolf/spark hybrid.”

Cora sniffles a little, looking away from her Aunt, “You sacrificed yourself for me?”

Stiles laughs, the sound hollow but heart never betraying the truth of her words, “I wanted for you to survive Cora. I wanted you to escape and live more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. In that moment, it was all I wanted. I knew that the only way for that to happen was for the Fae to be distracted. I was the perfect power–filled distraction.”

Cora frowns at that, scent going bitter as she pulls her knees up to her chest and rests her head on them, arms wrapped tight around her legs.

When Stiles reaches for her, she simply shakes her head and looks away.

Derek frowns as well, “The Fae are dangerous.”

“I know Derek. I knew.”

“And you killed their Queen.” Lydia adds, voice loud in the quiet room.

“I did.” Stiles responds, not bothering to sugar coat it. She lived as a prisoner to the Queen for very long time. She learnt their customs and laws and beliefs until she knew them inside and out. She knows there will be consequences for her actions, retribution and all that. She only hopes she hasn’t doomed them all with her escape. “They will not be happy.” She adds.

For a few moments, there’s tense silence as everyone takes in what that means, as everyone takes in what’s been said – all of it. Stiles has no doubts that when everyone finally goes to bed there will be a dozen more questions for her to answer when they awaken and perhaps she’ll even answer some of them, the ones that aren’t stupid of course.

There is one question she was at least expecting tonight though and it’s Peter who finally asks it.

“How long where you there for?”

Stiles has been trying to figure that one out for a long time, but she answers as best she can. “I don’t exactly know because time moves differently there. I did the math in my head when you told me what year it is though. Basically, if it’s 2013 now that means that I was there for nearly 9 years in this realms time flow–”

McCall interrupts again, “This realms time flow? What does that mean?”

When she turns to face him, eyes glowing brightly with irritation, he squeaks a little.

“Sorry!”

The groups laughs quietly. It’s small but it breaks some of the tension and when Stiles relaxes a bit more into Peter’s chest, Cora leans a little into both of them.

“What I mean is that the Fae don’t reside here where we do, they occupy a delightfully tricking realm outside the space and time continuum. Time moves differently for the Fae. Time is slower there – I suspect one year here is only a month there.”

Lydia tilts her head, lips pursed in consideration as Peter and Derek share a look.

“It would make sense…” Derek starts, crossing his arms across his chest as he looks her over, “I mean, you haven’t really changed that much since…” he swallows hard and doesn’t meet her eyes, “…since I last saw you.”

Peter leans down and presses a kiss to her neck, “You still look as good as the day we met darling.”

Stiles laughs, digging her elbow into his ribs playfully, “Aren’t you charming. Where was this on our wedding day?”

She can feel his smirk against her neck, can see clear as day the way his lips are tilted dangerously up on the left with that little hint of fang that makes her knees weak, “I was under the impression you enjoyed our wedding day.”

Derek makes a face; the same one he always made when he walked in on Stiles and Peter flirting over coffee in the mornings before everyone else was awake – just after she’d moved into the Hale home. “Please don’t. Just…don’t. No one needs to see that.”

Stiles, in all her dignified Aunt glory, sticks her tongue out at her nephew. Derek rolls his eyes as Peter chuckles under his breath and she pouts. When she opens her mouth to snark at the two of them, she interrupts herself with a yawn.

“Oh!” The Kitsune jumps up, checking something that lights up her face and groans.

“Kira?” McCall jumps up as he questions her and when she flashes the thing at him, he groans as well.

“What is it?” Derek asks, looking alert.

“Dude, it’s like 3am, our parents are gonna kill us!” he moans, dragging a hand down his face and cracking his jaw as he goes.

“Okay, that is disgusting,” The banshee starts, rolling her eyes and standing as well, “and would you calm down please. I’ve already messaged my mother and the majority of everyone else’s parents as well. They all know and expect us to be staying here anyway.”

“Oh.”

“But with that, I am going to sleep,” She grabs the bored boys hand and begins walking further into the loft, “Goodnight.”

The others slowly trickle away after that – the other Alpha and hunter go off together, the kitsune smiles sweetly at them all and goes another way.

Cora untucks herself and presses a kiss to Stiles cheek, scenting her as she goes, “Goodnight Aunt Stiles.”

Stiles stands up and presses a kiss to her forehead and smiles tiredly at her as she walks away, “Goodnight baby.”

Eventually, along with Peter, Derek and herself, there are only three are left; the pale blonde girl, the curly haired blonde boy and a dark skinned boy. The girl stands between the two boys, a grin lighting up her face.

Without warning, she darts forward, wrapping her arms around Stiles and nuzzling into her chest.

Stiles doesn’t jerk back but it’s a damn near thing. Instead she loosely wraps an arm around her and pats her head, “Oh, uh, goodnight?”

“Erica.” Derek sounds tired but not surprised – oh, she’s heard that tone before. Stiles used to call it Talia’s ‘I have too many kids’ voice, “Boyd.”

One of the boys pull Erica back with a tentative smile and Stiles matches it as best she can – she likes this Boyd.

“Goodnight!” Erica calls to them all, one hand gripping his and dragging him along with her. He simply nods and Stiles feel her smile grow.

She turns to Derek, “Alex.”

Derek nods, a sad sort of smile finding it’s way onto his face, “Boyd’s his own person, own wolf. But he’s got this sturdiness, this calmness that just…Alex.” His voices catches and Stiles squeezes his hand.

The curly haired boy is still standing there, eyes on the floor and fidgeting a bit. Stiles bites the inside of her cheek before opening her arms, “C’mere Pup.”

“Name’s Isaac.” He mumbles as he wraps his arms around her and holds tight. Stiles simply lets him hold her, running one hand over his back and the other through his hair.

He shakes, a full body shiver and pulls back with his eyes watering, “Sorry. You just…my mum.” He shrugs helplessly and turns to walk away. Stiles twists her fingers together, brain moving 100 miles a minute and beyond thankful for the silent support Derek and Peter offer. Finally, just before Isaac goes to close a door, Stiles quietly calls out after him.

“Isaac.” She waits until he turns to face her, still not quite meeting her eyes, “Anytime.”

She hears him let out a deep breath and watches as a small smile changes his entire face – he looks so much younger like that, a lot more peaceful. He nods at her and closes the door quietly.

It’s just her and her boys now. Stiles watches as Derek and Peter seem to converse without words and when they turn to her, she arches a brow and crosses her arms.

Derek coughs out a laugh, “Sorry Aunt Stiles. Peter usually stays at his own place but you probably want to stay here right?”

“I do.”

“And so I’ll stay here.” Peter explains, reaching out and tugging her into his arms – chest to back, again.

Derek smiles, “I figured. You know where everything is.” He leans into her and presses a kiss to her cheek – receiving one in return – before pulling back and clapping his Uncle on the arm. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Derbear.” Stiles whispers it, knowing he’ll be able to hear it and pretends not to notice the stench of salt on the air as his heart skips.

Its quiet for a moment before she’s suddenly spinning in place. Stiles lets out a delighted laugh, wrapping her arms around Peters neck and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He responds in kind, sweet and soft, until Stiles growls and drags clawed fingernails across his neck and down his back. He groans into her mouth, pushing forward and pulling her tight into him. Stiles moans shakily, heart racing and heat building as she gives just as good as she gets – until she cuts them both of with another yawn.

Peter laughs, shoulders shaking as Stiles lets out a mortified groan, head falling onto his chest. A warmth settles over her when he wraps his arms around her presses little kisses into her hair.

“Lets get you to bed darling, before you fall asleep where you stand.” He pulls her into his side as they begin to walk up a set of stairs.

“I already am.” Stiles laughs quietly before another small yawn breaks it up. Peter catches her eye, his smile soft and loving and Stiles returns it as easily as breathing.

They’ll talk more in the morning, they still need to discuss Malia after all, but for now? Sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so explanation time!
> 
> 1\. Stiles is a werewolf, I wanted to make her a werewolf because I honestly just really like that trope but I didn't her to lose her magic therefore werewolf/spark hybrid. Next chapter I'll go further into detail but the basis is that because of a Spark being ones strength of will - it's not lost when bitten and turned. 
> 
> 2\. Stiles still looks as she did pre-Hale fire. Where Derek, Cora and Peter have been ageing and healing, Stiles has been trapped in a realm that slows time to suit them (ie. 1 year = 1 month). I was going to play around with rapid aging but it would only be like a few years and there's not much point so instead look out for some Derek being older than Stiles physically/biological angst.
> 
> 3\. I know the characters are a little OOC and I haven't even begun writing for the other non-Hale characters but I'm getting there and remember - artistic liberties are allowed to be taken. 
> 
> 4\. Stiles doesn't know what an Iphone is. She's smart enough to realise that it has to be something similar to a phone or computer but she basically was kidnapped in 2004. Before YouTube. That's gonna be fun. 
> 
> And finally, a question for you guys to help me with.
> 
> So whilst Stiles is legally, and for all intents and purposes of this story, a Hale, I still like the idea of her being related to the sheriff which leads to one of two options that I could use your help picking (Keep in mind that one will not know about the Supernatural whereas one will): 
> 
> 1\. John and Stiles being siblings (older brother, younger sister) 
> 
> Or...
> 
> 2\. John being aged up to be around 60 so he's still Stiles' father. 
> 
> Help?

**Author's Note:**

> So there you have it. This was originally supposed to be a one shot and it probably could have stayed that way, to be honest, but I'm a sucker for chapters so...
> 
> Anyway, how was that? Female Stiles being married to Peter pre-Hale fire and then actually being Malia's mother? Wild right? I know but I couldn't get the idea out of my head. I also honestly don't even know the lore behind my own story but hopefully it makes enough sense without someone other than me looking over it.
> 
> There will be more chapters, this might even turn into an entire story or series. Good heavens.


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